The Winchester boys had always escaped death. Even when they did die, somehow they always came back fighting. So when Dean was shot during a hunt, Sam didn't think anything of it. He packed Dean up in the Impala and headed back to their hotel and waited. He's seen Dean die before. Hundreds of times actually. So as his brother was dying he cradled his head in his hands and waited. He waited for Dean to wake up and be okay again. Sam waited for Dean to sit straight up and call him a bitch for cradling him like a baby. He waited. And waited...
"Dean?" he croaked. What was happening? Dean always pulled through. He ALWAYS survived.
The only reply Sam got was Dean's shallow breathing.
"No. No! Dean! Come on, man! COME ON!" He watched in horror as Dean coughed up blood. A weak smile on his face as he looked up at his baby brother.
"Sammy." Dean whispered. He moved a bloody hand up to cup Sams cheek.
"You're gonna be okay, Dean. You're always okay. You came back from Hell for God's sake!" Sam was hysterical, because he never had to watch this. Not even when the hounds attacked Dean. He didn't have to watch Dean die in agony like this.
Dean smiled weakly back up at him and his hand slipped from Sams face, leaving blood smearing down his chest.
Somethings wrong. He should be okay by now. He should be up and wanting to kill the demon that shot him. He should be- He should...
Sams thoughts were cut off by seing something out of the corner of his eye.
"Cass." He breathed a sigh of relief. Castiel would know what to do. He could save Dean.
But Cass didn't look happy. He looked stricken. Like the end was near. He looked like Dean was going to die.
"Don't just stand there! Save him!" Sam all but cried out at the angel. "Something is wrong Cass. He should be okay by now. He should be getting pissed at you for showing up without warning. He should be- He should-"
Sam froze. Dean wasn't breathing. That was normal in situations like this. That's not what scared him. What scared him was the fact that Deans eyes were wide open. Lifeless. Every time he died, his eyes were always closed. But they were opened. Wide open and lifeless.
Sobs rose from Sams chest as he cradled Deans head closer to his body. He rocked back and forth screaming silent prayers at Castiel to fix this. To bring his big brother back. To save him.
"I'm sorry Sam." Castiel whispered as he disappeared again.
Sam was speechless. How many times have they gotten into deadly situations and come out perfectly alive? How many times had Sam survived just from his big brother coming to his safety? And now Dean was dead? Because of him. Because he had to save his stupid baby brother again.
"No. No. I'm going to fix this. I'll make a deal if I have to. After everything I did.. It should have been me that died Dean. Not you. Never you." Tears were streaming out of Sams eyes as he he held Deans face close to his own.
"CASS! CASTIEL YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU BRING HIM BACK! YOU BRING MY BROTHER BACK TO ME!" He knew his screams were useless. But he'd be damned if he didn't try. "You brought him back from Hell! You said Dean had a special purpose!"
He didn't know how or when he had stood up, but he found himself standing in front of the bed looking down at his brothers lifeless body and he just snapped.
"YOU SAID HE HAD A PURPOSE! IS THIS WHAT YOU MEANT, YOU SORRY SON OF A BITCH?! YOU JUST USE DEAN UNTIL HE'S NO LONGER IMPORTANT TO YOU AND YOU JUST THROW HIM AWAY?! CASTIEL YOU FUCKING DICK, I'M TALKING TO YOU! ANSWER ME!"
He was on his knees now. Sobbing uncontrollably, whispering promises and pleas. Just begging for Castiel or God or someone to save his brother.
"I can- I can take his place. Dean is a better person than I am. Let me take his place. Please. Just let my brother live." He no longer sounded like the man that he was, he sounded like a child again. The little kid that was afraid of the monster under the bed and who only felt safe when his big brother was with him.
How would he ever face those monsters now?
He begged and pleaded until his voice was shot. If he couldn't take Deans place, let the apacolypse kill everyone. Let the Earth burn. But his pleas were futile. Because that's not how it worked. The world didn't get to end just because Sam Winchester wished it when his brother died.
No, it had to keep moving. People still had to exist. And Sam Winchester had to continue fighting.
To save humanity. To save innocent lives. To save himself.
He looked over at his brother one last time and slowly closed Deans eyes. Resting his forehead against his big brothers, Sam uttered a single word to an ongoing ritual. A nickname that Sam knew he would would never be able to speak again.
"Jerk."